


The Ring

by Tantaylor



Category: Duran Duran
Genre: M/M, S&M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 19:22:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21823783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tantaylor/pseuds/Tantaylor
Summary: Sometimes it just needs a sign and a friend who won`t give up
Relationships: Nick Rhodes/Roger Taylor (Duran Duran)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 6





	The Ring

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my mother tongue, no beta.
> 
> Story takes place at paper-gods-era.
> 
> Feedback welcome
> 
> Thank you

My, am I glad that this tour is finally over!  
Well, we all have to admit we`re not 20 anymore, but for me it was more than just a bit exhausting.  
I blame the drummer.  
Just before the tour started, he decided to tell us he`s gay.

I could have killed John for that look he gave me.  
I wish I had never told him. That I have a little crush on Roger from the very beginning.

It's gotten worse since the reunion.

It`s…well, he changed. A lot. 

The first time since my teenage years I have wet dreams again, dreams in which I tie strong arms to my bedposts, in which this gentle, calm voice begged me to fuck him.  
Of course the voice is not calm in these dreams, it`s full of need and desire, trembling with lust, pure need.  
Need for my cock up his tight hole, for my hands spanking that taut ass, for … goodness. Now it even happens in broad daylight, I`m getting hard just by the thought of him.

John actually thought it was good news. That Roger is gay.

But for me it was easier when I had to assume he`s all straight. It created a distance, a distance I needed. He was a friend, a band mate, period. Completely forbidden. Out of reach, and that was good.   
Everyone knows I'm gay, but few know about the other thing. 

John knows; of course, and therefore it makes me all mad he keeps encouraging me to talk to Roger about it. Because Roger is gay, too. Because John thinks Roger likes me, that he seeks my closeness, even flirts with me.  
I admit there have been several moments on this fucking tour. Moments when I thought John was right.  
Once we almost kissed. Almost. It was Roger who backed down, and since then it's been kind of weird between us. Probably better that way. 

Because of that other thing.   
Not only do I like men, I love to subdue them, to rule them.  
To inflict pain on them, to make them beg and whimper.  
By mutual consent, of course.  
And I especially like it when they're physically superior to me. If they give me what I want, although it would be easy for them to just push me away. Which they can't do when they're tied to my bed or hanging from the hook in my living room ceiling, though.  
Well, but at some point I'll have to free them again, won't I?

And then there`s Roger, perfectly meeting my needs. Ok, he`s short. I usually like taller men. But he`s still a tad taller then me, and this body…compact strength. Solid. Muscled.  
Automatically my gaze wanders to said hook. Hasn't been used for a long time, much too long,  
Man, Roger would look pretty on that. Naked, the broad back decorated with the traces of my crop, plugged, bathed in sweat…

Fuck.   
No!  
I won`t do that, no!  
I won`t wank in my living room, thinking of a certain drummer, no!  
Maybe I should have accepted John and Gela's invitation to Wiltshire. I wanted to be alone. I thought it would help me to sort myself out, but it seems like distraction would have been the better choice.  
I chuckle at the tone of an incoming WhatsApp-message. This is ridiculous! Each of my friend and family has their own tone, and this was John`s.   
Such things happen all the time. I think of him and he`ll call or text, like we have a telepathic connection or something. He says it`s the same the other way around. 

Smiling, I reach for the mobile.

*OK, Nick, tell me I`m not seeing things here! Zoom in on Roger's right hand 😉*

He sent a pic with the message, a pic of Charlie and Roger in a hotel lobby in whatever hotel it is, chatting and holding coffee mugs.  
I'm sighing, tortured. What's that supposed to mean now?   
John is obsessed with the completely nonsensical idea of pairing us up.  
But he really should know that this is not possible! Roger may be gay, but he certainly doesn't share my preferences. Not Roger! He is so...  
Meek. Gentle.   
So… submissive?   
Oh my god! What the fuck? No! Can’t be!   
*So what? Now tell me! It is the ring, isn't it?* Another message from Nigel,  
I can`t breathe. The ring. Indeed, it is.   
The* ring of O*, a common sign of the SM-scene. Dominants wear it left, submissives right.  
And there it is, clearly to be seen on the fourth finger of his right hand. ROGER`S right hand.  
I think that's what it feels like to have a heart attack. My chest tightens. Air, god, I need air!  
Now my mobile rings, better said a deep bassline is played, John`s ring tone.  
Breathless, I answer the phone.  
“Tell me this isn`t photoshop, Nigel!”  
“Goodness, Nick, breathe! It`s not. I was looking for some pics to upload them to our website, and there it was. I told you, didn`t I? I told you I have the feeling you would make the perfect couple! Now go for it!”  
“I can`t! Fuck, Nigel!”  
“You can, you will! If you don't, I'll send him the picture and tell him you have the same ring.”  
Click. Bastard, hung up.  
I get myself a bottle of wine out of the kitchen and drink three glasses of it before I take the mobile phone again.   
I don't wear my ring often. Roger doesn't seem to either, otherwise I would have noticed. I certainly would have noticed it. Fuck.  
I scroll through my pictures, finally finding one of me wearing the ring, use an app to create a pic of close-ups from both our hands and send it to Roger.  
*Well, isn`t that funny? It looks like we`re married, huh?*  
Silly, I know. Not very controlling at all.  
Two small green checkmarks appear behind the message. Read. Like he was waiting for it.  
Three hours later I still don't have an answer, but I'm very drunk.  
In the three hours I wrote him at least ten more messages, but deleted them all.  
Controller, my arse.

Roger is a coward. A bloody fucking coward! He knows I can see he read the message. This little son of a bitch should at least have the decency to answer me. Coward!   
I should put him over my knee for that, spank him good and proper. Tie him to the hook. Whip him, fuck him senseless.

I get drunk because of him. I haven't done that since I realized my best friend had a drug problem.  
He's robbing me of my senses. I'll punish him for that, definitely!

I'm falling asleep in my chair, another something that hasn't happened to me for a long time.

Ack! Back aches. Neck aches. His fault. All his fault. Still no answer, it seems like those green checkmarks are laughing at me.

I'm in the kitchen drinking the third cup of coffee when the doorbell rings. My cat Garth immediately runs to the door. He loves visitors. I am less in my condition. I fell asleep with full make-up and look like a raccoon, a tired, unwashed raccoon.  
My clothes are wrinkled, my hair is tousled. No, I won't open the door for anyone, looking like this.

“Fuck off!” I mumble when the bell rings again. Garth comes back and meows at me.  
“Yes, heard it, but look at me, cat! Do I look like being in the mood for guests?”

He looks at me reproachfully. Yes, really. Garth is good at looking at me reproachfully.   
Arrogant, he`s arrogant. Stupid cat.

I ignore the third ringing, making my way back into the living room, just in time to the drum line coming out of my mobile.  
I almost drop the mug.

“Are you home?” Roger`s voice is to be heard when I answer the call.

“Have a nice Sunday, too, Roger. How are you?”

“Good morning, Nick. Have a nice Sunday, Nick. Are you home? Cause if you're home, it'd be nice if you'd open the door for me.”

Oh. Oh fuck.  
“Hang on a sec, will you?” Shit. I look like a bloody dosser.  
I have to at least wash the smeared mascara and eyeliner off my face.

Garth meows again when I hit the button to open the main door of the building. He likes visitors, did I mention that? And he likes Roger in particular, though the man is more of a dog person. Knowing it will take him a while to show up in front of my own door, as I live in the loft, I head for the bathroom.   
The lift doors would open directly into my apartment, he`s been here about a hundred times and he would have Garth to welcome him.

I really need a few minutes. Minutes to clean my skin, to slip out of the crinkled clothes, to grab the silk bathrobe.

“Nick?”  
“You caught me under the shower, man. Make yourself at home. There`s fresh coffee in the kitchen.”  
Breathe, Rhodes! You are the controller! 

Roger leans at the counter, mug in hand like in this picture John sent me, the silver ring a visible contrast to the white pottery, when I enter the kitchen.   
The only thing to be heard is Garth`s purring, as he rubs his head against Roger`s leg.  
He looks tired. Pale. 

“Not feeling well?” I wonder, fighting the need to pull him into my arms by keeping a certain distance.

“I haven't slept well. Besides there was a traffic jam, Sunday morning. Can you imagine that? Been in Brum, you know?”

“Ah. Did you have breakfast yet? I fell asleep in my chair last night. Too much wine. Just got up.”

“Not hungry, thank you. Had a sandwich on the way.”

There`s a moment of awkward silence, me glancing at his ring, he looking down at the cat, before I get the real meaning of his words.  
“Did you drive back for me? From Birmingham?”  
He nods, his pale complexion changes to a healthy red.  
Goodness!

“I got drunk because of you. I thought John was making fun of me when he sent me that pic with the ring. But you're actually wearing it. I assume that you are aware of the meaning, that you did not buy it only for its very appealing shape?”  
“I`m very aware of the meaning. I couldn`t be any more aware of it.”  
“So am I. Tell me, did I imagine it or were there... moments? Were you flirting with me, just to back off when I was a hundredth of a second close to kiss you?”  
Control. Yes. Always there when needed.  
“ I got scared. I suddenly wasn't sure if... if this was such a good idea. Our friendship. The band. How is that going to work? Besides, I thought...what if I imagined it all? If you're just a perfectionist, controller? When your desire for control is just about the music and all I meant to see in you was just wishful thinking? That would have been pretty embarrassing, right? For both of us. Well, more for me, I guess. How could I ever have looked at you again if I'd revealed to you what I like and you'd have laughed. Or would have been disgusted.”  
“You didn`t”   
“Huh?”   
“Imagine it.”  
“Uh-huh. Thought so when you sent me this pic. Still, it doesn`t have to mean we`re….uh.”  
“What, Roger? We are what? Compatible? Did you even listen to me? I said I got drunk because of you! I was waiting half the night for you to answer. Fuck, Roger! Listen, will you? I have a crush on you since forever, I almost died when you told us you`re gay. You destroyed the distance I needed not to keep thinking what it would be like to tie you up, beat you! Suddenly, the shield was gone, the knowledge that you don't like men anyway. Fuck. I wanted to punish you. Those fucking green checkmarks, and you just don't answer! I wanted to whip you, spank your gorgeous ass, fuck you until you scream. Does that sound compatible to you?”  
“Very much so.”  
“Then you'd better kneel naked on my bed in three minutes, on all fours. You know the way.”  
“Nick…”  
“No. All or nothing. Safeword?”  
“Promark”  
“Naked on my bed in 2 minutes now, or use the word!”

That`s the beginning of something wonderful. Utterly wonderful.   
Sometimes it just needs a sign.  
And a good friend, the best you can have.


End file.
